


France, again

by Tantaylor



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, kitsch, smoking weed, warm and fuzzy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29923182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tantaylor/pseuds/Tantaylor
Summary: Sometimes, you have to be stoned to see things clear.
Relationships: Nick Rhodes/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	France, again

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime after Andy left yet again...choose your own year.
> 
> And again, english is not my mother-tongue. no beta.  
> Please leave feedback.  
> Thank you.

Nick tossed and turned restlessly in his bed.  
He just couldn't sleep. In the room above him, John and Gela were just moving on to the third round of sex, and the sounds of passion were quite loud.  
Nick granted his best friend that with all his heart, but still…  
Well. 

It had been a long time since he had had sex himself. Even longer that it was good sex. Sex with someone he loved.  
It didn't necessarily belong together, love and good sex, Nick had already had extremely intense one night stands, but maybe ... maybe that just changed with age. 

"You're lonely, Rhodes!" Only when he said it out loud did he realise that it was true.  
This realisation was shocking.  
Nick stared into the darkness for a while and then decided to get drunk. 

They had all held back so far, because of John, of course, but John was busy, wasn't he?  
Nick got dressed because he would never, ever walk around the house in his pyjamas. Not when this house was packed with people.  
Simon, John, Dom, Roger and, since that afternoon, Gela, Yassie and Dom's wife, whose name Nick always forgot.

Much to his surprise, he heard wild laughter as he made his way down the stairs.  
Apparently the Le Bons had already finished their reunion sex and he was not the only one who wanted to get drunk.  
He would just take a bottle of something strong back to his room, he didn't feel like company, certainly not the company of happy couples.

He didn't often have these bouts of self-pity, because he was actually quite happy with his life, but when he felt like that, he wanted to wallow in it. An intense round of self-pity and then on, head up, crown in place.  
However, Simon and Yasmin were not alone in the living room. Roger was also there.  
And one look at these three made it clear that they were not drunk. They were absolutely stoned out of their minds. 

"Are you crazy?" Nick yelled at them. "Drugs! With John in the house. You guys are so..."

"It's just weed, man, relax! Besides, good John is pretty busy." Simon giggled hysterically as said John confirmed this statement with a rather unambiguous scream. "Dude! Nigel's got some stamina.”

“He`s a Taylor, huh?” Roger grinned. 

“I am deeply surprised that you, of all people, are taking part in this nonsense, Roger. What are you, 12? “ Nick snapped.

The drummer's big grin went out like a candle in the wind.  
"You know what, Nicholas? Maybe it would do you good to pull that fucking stick out of your cute little ass for once.”

Yasmin almost choked with laughter, absolutely unimpressed by the sudden tension in the room.  
"Fucking stick in the ass, that's what you'd like, Roger, huh?"

“In any case, I would enjoy it considerably more than our buzzkill here, I suppose. Come on, Nick. Sit down and take a puff. You could use it.”

"I don't do drugs." Nick barked and grabbed a bottle of whisky from the house bar.

Roger raised his eyebrows and laughed.  
"Said the man with the booze in his hand. Man, that`s ridiculous!”

“Your wise gay colleague is kind of right, don't you think?” Charlie chuckled.

“Oh, leave me alone, you idiots.” Nick stormed out, whisky in hand, and angrily slammed his bedroom door behind him.  
Drinking directly from the bottle, he wondered why he was so angry.He almost didn't hear the soft knock on the door.  
That must have been Simon. Simon was aloof and pushy, he never knew when it was better to just let something be.  
But it wasn't the singer, it was Roger.  
His wise, gay colleague.  
That he just walked in was no more like him than it was like Nick to drink liquor from a bottle. 

“Listen, Nick Rhodes, I don't know what's wrong with you lately, but it's getting really annoying, you know? We are aware that John is an addict and we would never use drugs in his presence. But isn't John an alcoholic first and foremost? And which one of us is getting drunk right now? So stop acting up, you hypocrite!”

“I am old. And alone."  
Where the hell did that come from? Nick stared at Roger in surprise, and he couldn't blame him for laughing out loud. He sat down next to Nick on the bed without being asked and took the bottle from him.  
"Drinking won't help, Nicky. Weed is much more fun, believe me!" 

Grinning, he pulled a fat joint out of his shirt pocket.  
“You and me, Nicky, we're going to get really stoned and philosophise about the lonely lives of ageing gay men, okay? We'll gossip and laugh and realise that we are NOT alone. Seriously, take that stick out of your ass. Have a little fun. Please?”  
Roger batted his eyelashes exaggeratedly, making Nick laugh.

“I have never smoked weed,” he admitted.

“There is a first time for everything. And there are definitely more unpleasant first times.” Roger chuckled when he lit the joint. “Do you have something we can use as an ashtray?”

Nick found a small decorative plate on the dresser and handed it to Roger.  
"So here we are. In France. Again," the drummer mused after taking a deep drag.

"It's tradition, isn't it? Established since the early 80s” Nicholas coughed after he too had taken a drag. The stuff scratched his throat.

“Keep it in your mouth for a little while. That makes it smoother.”

God, one single puff and he already felt high!  
“I guess everything gets softer if you keep it in your mouth long enough,” he chuckled.

“Probably. Although it's been a long time since I've had anything other than food in my mouth. Or the occasional joint.” 

“You're not here three minutes and we're talking about blow-jobs, really?”

“Actually, we are talking about non-blow jobs. Or have you had one lately?”

“Unfortunately not. You see? Old and alone! “

“You poor thing!” Roger patted his knee and they giggled goofily. Weed did really funny things to you.  
Pleasant things, Nick noted in amazement. He actually felt better. Relaxed. Silly. When was the last time he had been silly? When had life started to get so terribly serious?

“Tell me, you old lonely fag, when was your last one?” Roger looked at him out of reddened, slightly glazed eyes and for some reason this made Nick laugh.  
"You look cute" Nick chuckled. Why did he have to laugh all the time when there was nothing to laugh about? It was really silly. And somehow beautiful.

"Thank you. So when was your last one?"

"My last what?" he blinked. His usually fast-working brain seemed to be on the back burner.

"Blow job."

"I'll really have to think about that. When was yours?"

“I can't remember. Oh fucking hell, Nick Rhodes, you're right! We are old and lonely!”  
They looked at each other in horror, started grinning and burst into hysterical laughter.

“Rog?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Right now I don't feel old. And not lonely either.”

“Good.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Nicholas.”  
They were silent for a while, then Nick said: "I forget sometimes, you know?"

"What?"

"That you're gay. It came to you rather late, didn't it?”

“It was always there. I just didn't want to see it. Not everyone is as brave as you, Nick. I'll never forget you marching into the rehearsal room with that defiant look on your face and announcing that you were gay. That was incredibly brave. I mean, you were not even eighteen, right?”

“I was so scared I nearly wet my pants. I was fucking scared, Roger. I thought you were disgusted by me. I thought you'd kick me out of the band.”

“It's your band, Nick. It's always been your band. Without you there would never have been a band. How many times have I said band now?”

They laughed again.  
"You've changed," Nick observed.

"Haven't we all?"  
They looked at each other. Grinned.

And then something very strange happened.  
Nick looked at Roger. Really looked at him. Yes, it was actually as if he was really looking at him for the first time. As if he was seeing him for what he was for the first time. And that was extraordinarily irritating. Because he liked what he saw.  
A gay, attractive man sitting on his bed and smiling. His top shirt buttons undone, his rolled-up sleeves revealing an impressive biceps. His lips were beautiful. They looked soft, they looked like they would be nice to kiss.  
“This is crazy,” he murmured. “Goodness, crazy!”

Roger nodded in agreement, as if he knew what it was all about, took another drag and carefully stubbed out the joint.

Then he stretched out on Nick's bed, sighing contentedly.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making myself comfortable, if you don't mind.”

“You could at least take your shoes off, you know?”

Again they laughed, and Nick began to feel uncomfortable with this loss of control. He could not grasp his thoughts, strange thoughts that wafted hazily through his brain. Thoughts like how adorable Roger was, stretched out beside him, and how very weird it was that he`d never noticed this man`s sexiness.  
The strangest thing of all, however, was that he felt a huge, overwhelming need to say exactly that to the drummer. He had to. Because otherwise he would die. For sure.  
“You're pretty sexy, and I never noticed that, and that's really totally.. and now I've lost the thread.”

Roger grinned wryly up at him. “And I already thought I was invisible for you.”

“Invisible? Of course not, you are...just Roger.”

Roger laughed, but this time it didn't sound the least bit silly.  
“Oh right, I`m just Roger. The one you even forget is gay.”

Then he shook his head vehemently, as if to dispel the bitterness that was in his voice.  
Nick's thoughts were still floating pointlessly through his brain and he felt a little dizzy, so he dropped down next to Roger.  
His body was warm and smelled good, and Nick just snuggled up to it.  
Some surging thought seemed to want to tell him that this wasn't such a good idea, but Nick just let it float away and smiled. It was cosy against Roger's chest and it became even cosier when a strong arm wrapped around him and pulled him closer.  
Only this loud knocking was somehow strange. Where did it come from?  
“What is that noise?” Nick wondered. 

Roger chuckled. A warm, beautiful rumbling in his chest mixed with the knocking.  
"That's my heart, you dumbass."

“You have a really loud heart. A loud, fast heart.”

“It is a broken, yearning heart.”

“Who broke it?”

The drummer sighed deeply and remained silent.  
"Roger, tell me, which idiot broke your heart?"

“A beautiful man who just doesn't notice me, no matter what I do.”

“That's really sad, Roger.”

“Yeah, I know. But it is what it is. Can we just lie here for a bit, Nick?”

Yes, they could. It was quite nice to lie in Roger's arms and listen to his loud, fast heart. 

Nick was quite surprised when he woke up and found that he was lying in bed fully dressed. With shoes on.  
Oh dear! Had he been that drunk?  
And then he remembered. Everything.  
It was as if the hammer of knowledge hit him with full force.  
The thoughts that had been wafting, slow and indistinct last night, were suddenly crystal clear.  
Roger. His wise, gay friend Roger.  
Now it was his own heart beating very loudly, and very fast.  
Oh. Damn! 

Nick Rhodes was doing something he had never done in his entire life.  
He raced down the stairs, unwashed, without make-up and without a single glance in the mirror, and stormed into the big kitchen.  
They all sat there having a late breakfast. All except Roger.  
"Where is he?"

"Who?" John blinked at him uncomprehendingly.

"Roger! Where's Roger?"

"Outside somewhere." Simon made a wry gesture towards the door.

Nick didn't notice them staring at him as he ran out.

They had never seen him run before, ever.

Outside the door, Nick looked around frantically.  
The warm midday sun of southern France blinded him and he suddenly felt rather silly. What if he was wrong?  
What if he was imagining things, if the whole thing was just a weird side effect of his first joint?

_“And I already thought I was invisible for you.”_

_“Oh right, I`m just Roger. The one you even forget is gay.”_

_“A beautiful man who just doesn't notice me, no matter what I do.”_

No. He wasn't wrong. Absolutely not. Roger had a crush on him. And clearly he fancied Roger too. 

“Where the hell are you, Roger Taylor?” Nick murmured and he went off without knowing where he was going. He just knew he had to find Roger.

He found him only a few minutes later.

The drummer was sitting on the sand at the bottom of the beach, his face in the sun.  
Nick stopped and looked at him, and as if Roger had sensed him standing there, he turned his head. Neither of them spoke a word as Nick came closer and sat down next to him.  
So there they sat, close together but not touching, looking out over the calm sea.  
It was Nick who finally took Roger's hand between his own.  
Roger smiled.  
And then they kissed.


End file.
